Slosh
by D. M. Domini
Summary: Robinton confronts Menolly's family at Half-Circle Sea Hold.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

_Slosh._

"I don't like this," Menolly said.

Robinton looked over the side of the boat at little waves and tried to stare them down, as if that might still the churning in his belly. "I don't like it either," Robinton said. He hadn't told Menolly he didn't do well on small boats, when they started this trip. He thought, like time softened memories, time might also soften seasickness.

It didn't. However, it was a little difficult to not look like a hypocrite when he harped on cross-Craft knowledge all the time, and then neglected to take advantage of what Menolly knew. She was a smart woman, and would have sensed he were somehow dancing around her seaholder past, never tapping it, and she might possibly think it was a slight against her. She sometimes became testy when they tip-toed around subjects dealing with her childhood.

So. Here they...

_Slosh._

...were.

Menolly came over to the side of the boat where he was standing, and leaned over to see what he was looking at. "Oh. Yeah. See, those little baby waves are going to get _much_ bigger. Look west."

Robinton did so, and swallowed. He tried to make the swallowing look unobtrusive, but had a feeling his adam's apple bobbed like...like a boat on a swell. "If I were Journeying, I'd predict rain, and be looking for a nearby cothold around now," he said. "Or a friendly band of Traders. Or perhaps a cave."

"We don't have those," Menolly said, with a calm that seemed almost supernatural to him.

Harper-witch indeed. He gave her a brief, encouraging smile; she was a woman of many talents, and right now, her keeping her head while he had the urge to lose his own was the one he appreciated most.

"Why don't you put on your heavy weather gear, Master?" she asked him.

His smile faded. It was odd, how distant things seemed, like the troubled contents of his mind were more real than this stormy sea they were sailing on. "No, my dear, put yours on first."

"Let me just fix these—"

"I will do it. Go below. _And put your gear on._"

She gave him an strange look, perhaps finally picking up his queer mood, or the oddity of a man who'd previously professed absolutely no knowledge of boats suddenly professing knowledge enough to do what she had intended to do. But she complied. "Watch yourself! Things can come up quickly!" she yelled back as she disappeared down the ladder.

"I know!" he assured her. "I know," he also told the menacing storm, in a quieter tone.

As Robinton went around securing what needed to be secured, and making sure emergency devices were easily accessible, he thought about old sea tales. It wasn't that he were giving into superstition, but it gave his mind something silly to worry at. Here he was. At sea. In a small boat. Which he should call a ship, but _didn't_, because he felt using the wrongheaded word "boat" aptly demonstrated his true knowledge of the dangerous Craft. The woman with him was from a seafaring family, and if Kasia's eyes could be described as sea-green, Menolly's could be described as sea-blue, if Silvina were not around to catch the reference and give him a good smack. A good sea tale would have a siren rising out of the ocean to bewitch him, and she'd wear Kasia's face, and try to entangle him in half-truths and lies, and his student as well.

He snorted to himself at his whimsy, momentarily forgetting the approaching storm, and his seasickness. _What an imagination you have, Master Robinton_. He felt like sticking his tongue out at the storm, but had the feeling the moment he did, Menolly would pop up with her gear on and spot it.

Not that he cared overmuch if she caught him in a moment of silliness, so once he'd checked on everything he suspected Menolly would have checked on and returned to the tiller, he gave into it and gave the western horizon and its bank of puffy gray clouds a clear raspberry.

Menolly caught him at it, as she ascended from below with her gear on, and his in her hands. The wind also blew droplets of his own spit back in his face. "What?" he asked, catching her eye and giving her a guilty smile.

"I probably shouldn't tell you seaholder superstitions about spitting while at sea," she said.

"No," he said, giving her a look that was both sly and guilty, the perfect air of boyish got-caught-in-the-act-and-I'm-not-really-sorry-but-aren't-I-cute? _The mark of an accomplished Harper is being over six turns of age and still pulling it off successfully._ He watched he face war between sternness and a smile, and knew he'd pulled it off. "You probably shouldn't."

She shook her head at him. Once upon a time she wouldn't have known how to act when he teased her, but now she tolerated him fondly. Then she became businesslike and firmly took control of the boat from him.

Robinton was able to don his rain-resistant gear without much more fuss than a few gusts of air clouting him on the back like they were drunken buddies from a nearby Gather. Menolly manned the tiller, and put together a plan for trying to make it to the nearest Seahold before the storm broke, and Robinton...hovered.

He hovered mostly in case she needed him, and so he would have easier access to the railing in case his seasickness decided to overcome him. However, it had a side effect of letting him be in earshot when she finally shook her head in irritation and said two words. "Half-Circle."

Robinton glanced up at the clouds again, and said, optimistically, "There are other Seaholds nearby—"

Menolly was quiet. Robinton rested a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. He wasn't exactly very enthusiastic about the notion himself: in true Harper fashion, shortly after Menolly had joined the Hall under his guidance, a little stinging song about a man who squandered his children's gifts due to overweening pride had circulated around the smaller holds in Nerat. Robinton _hadn't_ sent the song to Elgion, only because Elgion lived with the folk it satirized, and while overly hidebound, Yanus wasn't necessarily slow-witted or unafraid to take anyone in his Hold to task if it suited him. Even a Harper, if the Harper went too far. But Yanus, his wife, and his sons, _did_ travel to other holds to trade, and would be powerless to stop the rendition without giving it even more weight before their peers.

Still, without having _been_ there to see the tune hit home, he found he still harbored uncharacteristic anger at Menolly's family. And cooping himself and Menolly up with them in an enforced stay during a storm wasn't his idea of a jolly good time; he knew his student hadn't mended fences with anyone but her one brother Alemi, so any stay would be fraught with emotional traps, and he wasn't sure if he could hold his tongue if he saw her being badgered and belittled.

"The storm doesn't seem to be coming in all that fast," Robinton said, after watching it for a while. There was a part of him that stirred uneasily, thinking of the last time—had it really been the _last_ time? _That_ long ago?—he had been on a small boat during a storm. W_hat lovely choices; physical drowning, or emotional suffocation. Which scars last longer?_ Well, if you took that literally, "dead" didn't leave scars. But he didn't think it was quite that dire yet. "Tell me, Menolly: do you think we can make it to a safe spot beyond Half-Circle before this storm hits us? Perhaps even the spot where you lived before the Weyr found you?"

Menolly glanced back at him, startled. Then she laughed. "I don't think we'd both fit in there! It's not a very big cave..."

Robinton squeezed her shoulder again. "I'd rather be sitting in the lap of good company than playing hide-and-seek with foul company."

She giggled.

Perhaps that wasn't his most well-thought-out phrase ever...but he'd already said it, so he ran with it dramatically. "What? You don't think I'd fit? I have it on good authority—Master Zerg, in fact—that my backside needs _more_ padding, so it also goes to show it's not overly _large, _my dear_..._"

"Are we actually having this discussion?"

He considered, tapping a finger on his chin while the wind blew the oiled canvas of his jacket around. "Well, if we choose to hide in your cave, we probably are. If that's not a choice, then perhaps we should drop it."

"We won't fit in the cave. Not both of us and the firelizards."

"I see. Onward, then!"

She shook her head to herself, but set them on a course that would angle them back towards the coast—but not too close yet, due to rocks—in a way that would overshoot Half-Circle Seahold.

#

_SssssSSSShhhhlllllllsssssss._

The sea roared. Their boat groaned. The firelizards screamed and whirled overhead; ten of Menolly's, and one of his own.

"Menolly," he said in her ear, as he stood behind her and lent his strength as she tried to keep them on track. He was wet, from head to toe, but even wet the gear kept him warm; this wasn't a chilly springtime sea like the one that lurked in his memories.

"I know!" she yelled back, as a wave rose up out of the ocean like the water was a bedsheet and some colossal child was flapping it avidly. "I think there's a spot to anchor just ahead!"

A thought rolled through his head—the kind of thought he usually took action on, with a powerful stride across the room, and a booming voice. _We need to _know_. Not "think"._ He hesitated in speaking it, because at this point the fear had started to ride him again. Fear based on his past. Was this storm _that_ bad? Or did fear just make it seem that way? He twisted around, and could just make out something behind them, a shadow where the coastline dipped in and made the hold that had been Menolly's birthplace. It wasn't too far behind. It couldn't be, not with all this rain and spray; if it were too far he wouldn't be able to see it at all.

Then the ship dropped beneath them, into a trough, and his stomach twisted into knots. "Menolly," he said again, in her ear.

"What?"

"Can you see the place you want to anchor?"

"Not yet. Beauty—"

"Is still a firelizard. I can see Half-Circle behind us still."

She twisted herself to see. "Yes," she said after a moment.

"We go there. I will deal with your father."

She hesitated.

"Trust me."

She did. She began the process of turning them around.

#

"What are you two doing out there in a storm like _that_ in a _ship_ like this?" an incredulous weather-beaten fisherman said as he and about three other men helped secure the Harpers' boat. "My, oh my, oh my. Are you lads lucky."

Robinton caught Menolly's eye at the unintended humor; Robinton was far from being a lad...and so was Menolly. A better reception than he had hoped...but of course, the true reception still awaited. "Yes, we are indeed, and we are very grateful for Half-Circle's shelter and hospitality. Do you know by chance where Harper Elgion might be?"

The hold's Harper was more or less the last person the Sea Men expected wet and bedraggled refugees from the raging storm outside to be looking for, so it took a moment for the request to percolate through his brain. "We can send a lad to go get him, I'm sure. Who shall we tell the Harper is looking for him?"

"Master Robinton. It would be prudent for me to say hello to Holder Yanus as well."

And that, more or less, set the entire pot a-boil.

#

_Slosh._

The girl setting down a bowl of warm fish soup in front of Robinton cried out in dismay as her own nervousness caused some of that soup to slop over the edge of the bowl and seep across the plate underneath it. "I see the soup is as excited to see me as I am to see it," Robinton said, then stilled her hands with a pat as she went to try to wipe it up, and used a bit of bread instead, and popped it in his mouth. He chewed in appreciation, then said, "Thank you." His tone was a gentle dismissal, so she wouldn't keep on fretting over something as unimportant as a bit of spilled soup.

Her eyes glued to the spot on his plate, now smudged from the bread he'd swiped around, and then she curtsied because she couldn't do otherwise and served Menolly before joining one of the other tables for her own meal.

Around him at the table sat Holder Yanus, his wife Mavi, one of Menolly's older brothers, who was presumably in training to be Sea Holder himself some day, and Harper Elgion.

"I didn't know you were going to be up this way, sir," Harper Elgion said, sensing the tension that Robinton himself felt, and seeking to do what he could to alleviate it. He was also trying to assuage his own curiosity on what Robinton could possibly be up to; they had had about five seconds to speak before Yanus made his appearance, which had been about long enough for Elgion to peek around Robinton's shoulder and add Menolly to his greeting. Robinton could see the man was almost jittering with curiosity, his eyes darting from Robinton's jovial face to Menolly's calmly blank one, and finding answers in neither.

"That's the beauty of life," Robinton said. "One finds themselves in unexpected places with unexpected companions. When you involve boats as your means of travel—"

"—ships, sir," Menolly corrected quietly, than looked pained as it brought several sets of eyes to rest on her.

"—those unexpected places tend to be more frequent in stormy weather, and safe harbors such as Half-Circle more precious and appreciated." He paused, and glanced at Menolly, noting her correction. It was the first time in a very long while he'd seen her ashamed for having—to her mind—impudently corrected him in a mistake.

A wide vocabulary of possible words, phrases, intonations, and tones rolled around in his mind, nearly on his lips, and he picked through them. This is where he could set the tone and make many things clear to Yanus and Mavi, if he so desired. The question was...what would be best for _Menolly_? What was the ideal result here, of this unexpected and unwelcome conjunction of people and all the emotions and egos involved?

Well, first lay the grounding. That he valued Menolly, that she was a full Harper, that she was under his protection. "Thank you, Journeywoman Menolly. In this I am _your_ student, and the student of just about everyone here in the Sea Hold. 'Ships'. I apologize if my choice of term from before was inappropriate, Sea Holder Yanus."

"It's a common mistake, Masterharper," the man said, his eyes flitting over to Menolly for a moment.

"In any case, I appreciate your _tolerance_, as much as I appreciate shelter from the storm and this fine meal. Elgion—did you receive the Hall's last packet yet?"

Elgion went along with the changing of the subject, a slight gleam appearing in his eye. "I did, Master Robinton. Just the other day, in fact. Although I think it may have met poor weather on the way; did I see Master Domick's name in there, or did the wetting of the top corners play tricks on me?"

"No, no, you saw correctly." Robinton turned to smile at Menolly's family. "Our Composition Master at the Hall typically works on choral and orchestral pieces that aren't suitable for a lone Harper to play, unless she miraculously grows several more arms and perhaps a head or two."

"She?" Menolly asked under her breath, catching his use of the feminine pronoun as neuter, instead of the more standard male pronoun.

"But this past winter he was inspired—or perhaps feeling competitive—and produced some solo pieces—"

"Oh no," Elgion said. "Sounds like it may be easier to grow additional hands than do a Domick _solo_."

Robinton waved him to silence. "—that are quite unlike the typical ballads. In a good way. _Beautiful_ tunes. And never fear, Elgion, they're quite playable by any Harper that's attained Journeyman rank."

"Have I seen these?" Menolly asked, forgetting for a moment where she was, lulled by his uncharacteristic use of Craft-talk amongst non-Harpers, and addressing him with a mixture of amusement and skepticism.

"You may have," Robinton said. "When you were collaborating with him on those dances, you may have come across some. He handed them over to me at roughly the same time."

"Competitive..." she said, narrowing her eyes.

Maybe he was laying it on a bit too thick. "Well. Perhaps 'competitive' is the wrong word. But, he has to stay one step ahead of you, my girl," Robinton said. "Petiron taught you well."

She began to turn red.

"So! Holder Yanus, I was hoping to take a turn with Elgion after supper playing some of Master Domick's tunes, if you don't mind."

"Master Domick's?" Mavi inquired.

"Yes. Journeywoman Menolly's tunes are already well in circulation, aside from the dances. We send quite a few of hers out every quarter-year. I was thinking during this foul weather, it might be cheerful to hear something new, not old. Or we could do the dances," and Robinton glanced around the room, noticing many heads that quickly turned away from him so as not to appear to stare. "Although we might need to move tables around for that."

"I don't think that will be necessary, Master Robinton," Yanus said.

_And that's where we differ, Sea Holder,_ Robinton thought as he eyed the man. If Robinton had a daughter as talented as Menolly returning home, _he'd_ seize _any_ opportunity to brag about her skills in her Craft. Harper, Weaver, Smith—it wouldn't matter. But Robinton's chatter had at least discovered for him one thing: both Yanus and Mavi were against overt use of Menolly's songs—Mavi by making sure the songs they intended to play tonight were by Domick, and Yanus for not taking up the offer to hear the dances. And Robinton would now have to keep in touch with Elgion to see if they came to identify and withdraw those tunes by Menolly that were already in circulation in this small Hold.

What would _he_ do, if it came to that? Have Elgion tell people quite sadly when they requested one of Menolly's songs that they'd already heard that Yanus did not allow the full roster of Harper songs to be played now because some were created by his daughter? That was perilously close to interfering with Yanus' authority over his Hold, and while Robinton had no compulsions against fomenting revolt against a unworthy Holder in a good cause (the days of Fax were past, but not forgotten), the coldly calculating part of him reminded him that as much as he cared for Menolly, this wasn't yet enough of a provocation to begin something like that here.

No, that _would_ be overstepping his boundaries. While Yanus was a strict Holder, he seemed competent, and while not exactly loved by his people like some Holders were, neither was he feared. In other words—exactly the sort of situation where Robinton really should mind his own business.

Not that Robinton was any good at that.

Still, he maintained an amiable facade for the moment. "Very well. Elgion—do you know these new tunes of Master Domick's?"

"Well enough if the music is in front of me."

"Good. Menolly? You could sight-read Domick's more customary work the day you entered the Hall, _with_ a mangled hand—you won't have trouble with _these_ if you share the score with Elgion."

"Yes, sir," Menolly said.

"Masterharper," Mavi said. "You're our guest. Please don't feel obl—"

"Nonsense," Robinton said, unwilling to give her any wiggle room to stop him—or Menolly—from performing. "I am a Harper. Entertaining is what I do. If I don't sing for my supper, I sing to make people smile, or to remind them of duty, or to teach. I daresay I crave song like a boat craves water and the sails wind. Take it away from me, and I wilt like an uprooted plant. I'd toss and turn all night, sleepless." Then he caught Mavi's eye and winked, to let her know he was mostly jesting, for she seemed somewhat uncertain about his florid descriptions in a way that would have reminded him of Menolly—_if_ he didn't sense the moment his back was turned and the weight of his _rank_ no longer immediate she'd change her colors. Still. If it pleased her to act like a worried hostess in his presence, it pleased him to wear the masks he did as well, so he played the charming Harper to the hilt in return.

She gave in to his charm, and said nothing more this meal about his plans to play for the small Hold after they had eaten. Instead, she opened up conversation about the summer so far, and the weather—which was always of great interest to sea men and of course the reason Robinton and Menolly were there at all—and some light talk about Nerat and Benden Weyr and politics that actually _did_ interest him as it was rare these days he heard such opinions _directly_, instead of through Menolly or one of his other Journeymen. It was always interesting to see how talk amongst the Lord Holders differed from what _their_ small Holders under them were saying. Not to mention, it was another way to judge these people Menolly had grown up amongst.

Yanus, through all of this conversation, stayed silent, although Robinton was not sure if this was merely due to his stoic nature, or because he had heard Robinton's multiple carefully-worded challenges and was still considering how to respond.

Then, after a final _slosh_ of klah poured into cups, the three Harpers rose to gather their instruments, and in Elgion's case, the scores, so that they could lead the Hold in song.

The people of Half-Circle Sea Hold were considerably more enthusiastic about this than Menolly's parents had been, whispering and chattering to one another.

And as Elgion set up his music stand and arranged two stools in front of it for himself and Menolly, Robinton greeted their audience, introduced himself (although he was fairly sure just about everyone knew who he was: gossip flew quickly), and treated them to some general news about Pern at large that he thought they might be interested in, as he plucked at and tuned his gitar.

And then, the three of them were all ready.

The first song they chose was a duty song. With Domick's deft musical phrasing, the three of them played and sang about Crafthall, Hold, and Weyr, and also about Oldtimers—although not in so direct a fashion. Instead, they told a tale about an man with an bronze firelizard, and how he griped and complained and demanded things from everyone again and again across the turns, from Holder and Crafter and Dragonman, so that when he became an _old_ man with an _old_ firelizard, he reaped what he had sown as those he had taken too much from turned their back on him when his need was greatest.

Although the addition of firelizards was a relatively new thing to a slowly-moving Hold like this one, even though it had been several turns since Benden Weyr—and, independently, Menolly—had discovered they were Impressible, and the symbolism of a bronze firelizard for a bronze dragon possibly missed, the moral of the tale was clear and traditional, and Robinton could see Yanus relax a bit across the room.

After that, they surged into a well-known sea chant, that the Hold could, and did, join in with, clapping and stomping with enthusiasm, if not the beat. Then they returned to another new song of Domick's, this one a more edgy romantic tale about a female greenrider, with Menolly singing the rider and Elgion singing the rider's love-interest. And after that, they did the Firelizard Song, which everyone knew quite well these days, even if a light blush rose to Menolly's face as she sang the song entirely solo in front of her birth hold while Master Robinton and Journeyman Elgion accompanied her on their gitars. _Then_ they did another new one of Domick's, and this time the holders expected it to be something they didn't know, and listened raptly.

The time went along quite quickly, and Robinton was glad to see that by the end of it, the coming-and-going tide of blushes upon Menolly's cheeks had more or less stopped, and her more typical (for these days at least) composure had come to the fore. Indeed, for the last two songs, she was playing the fingers off of poor Elgion, and giving Robinton a run for his marks which delighted him, and her voice projected across the room in a way that would do Master Shonogar proud.

They stopped then, because the eldest and the youngest were all more or less asleep despite the singing and music, and because they were simultaneously going dry as their klah had long been drained, and in need of relief as the klah had also worked its way through their bodies.

Much of the hold clapped vigorously for them.

"You are a playing paragon," Elgion said to Menolly, as they put their instruments safely into their cases, and as people began to shuffle off to the kitchens to do the dishes or to their families and beds. "I've seen you on stage, of course, at Nerat and Benden, but..." and he shook his head in admiration. "It's quite another thing to be playing alongside you."

"Oh, no," Menolly said. "I'm just...me. You're good too, Elgion. I wanted to play with you the day you arrived, but," and she shrugged her slender shoulders and reached down to scoop one of the scores that had slid to the floor after they had played it.

Elgion met Master Robinton's gaze above her lowered head. _I should have known,_ he mouthed at Robinton. It wasn't the first time; Elgion seemed to perpetually kick himself over the fact that Menolly had been here in the hold when he'd arrived and he'd let her slip away solely because he didn't realize "Petiron's apprentice" wasn't necessarily male.

Robinton waved it off, like he always did. It had all worked out well in the end.

Mavi approached them then, to collect their empty klah mugs for washing. "We do appreciate you playing for us tonight, Master Robinton," she said, making no mention of Menolly having done as much as he. "Those were Master Domick's songs?" she asked.

"The first one was, then every other," he confirmed.

She nodded. "The new ones, yes. You're right, they're beautiful, but different."

"Then the Firelizard Song was by Journeywoman Menolly, as was the third-to-last song. The last song was one of my own. The rest are older than time itself," he said with a smile. And then he yawned, for the day had been long and filled with the physical exertions of getting their ship docked here to weather out the storm, and he was still feeling a bit sore around the midriff from the seasickness.

Mavi noticed right away. "We have a guestroom ready for you, Masterharper. If you follow me I can show you where it is."

"Splendid," Robinton said. "And is Menolly's nearby?"

Mavi hesitated.

"I can sleep on—" Menolly began.

Robinton fluttered his fingers against the side of his gitar in a way that looked casual, but which said in the special code only himself and his apprentices knew, _If you on boat, me on boat._

"—Half-Circle only has one guestroom, Master," Menolly said. _Truth,_ the quiet pitter-patter of her fingertips said before stilling.

Which meant if he was set on _not_ having her sleep in the chilly, swaying confines of their boat, she would have to bunk with someone.

His first instinct was to have her share quarters with either himself or Elgion. But that would be peculiar for a woman, and he feared would damage what little respect she may have gained by her playing skill. He could perhaps get away with a little cot for her in his room in a known environment, such as Ruatha or Benden Weyr, where those who mattered knew she was his right hand and respected the both of them...but then again, at Ruatha or Benden Weyr Menolly would have her own room, and there would be no need.

So, unless he intended to snub Half-Circle overtly to have them both sleep on the boat after he'd already been offered the use of their guestroom, it was in Mavi's hands where Menolly would sleep this evening.

_Perhaps you are worrying overmuch,_ Robinton told himself. "As long as I know where Menolly is sleeping, and I can find it, and she me, that is fine."

"I thought she would use her old room, which is now occupied by her eldest brother's wife's younger sister. She was the girl that served you the soup tonight. Her name is Rellana."

Well. He could hardly object to Menolly being in her old room, and the girl had seemed polite enough to him. He glanced over at Menolly. "Do you expect Beauty and the others to return tonight?"

"Beauty?" Mavi asked.

He turned back to her. "Yes. Menolly and I both have firelizards. We sent them off when we arrived to let people know where we are so they wouldn't become worried over our whereabouts if they heard gossip about that storm raging outside, but they haven't returned yet. My firelizard is Zair, he's a bronze. Menolly's queen is Beauty, and she has...ah...nine more firelizards besides. Will Rellana become frightened by them? They're well-trained."

Mavi's eyebrows went up. "I do not know."

"If they come in at night, I can send them away if she's frightened," Menolly said.

"Or you can send them to me," Robinton said. "I'm used to them."

A sudden smile bloomed on Menolly's face—the first he'd seen since they pulled into the large docking cavern. "Are you _ready_ for that, Master? You complain about Zair jabbing you in the ribs all the time, and he's only the one. With my ten you'll end up with wingtips up your nose and in your belly button."

"I think that sounds marvelous!" Robinton said.

She narrowed her eyes at him.

"I'll write a song about it," he said. "Every experience into the pot, yes? Song stew." He grinned broadly, because he was teasing her about how the first thing out of her mouth always was, _I'll write a song about it!_ Then, to Mavi, he said, "Don't worry about the firelizards. We'll sort them out. Although we should mention it to Rellana beforehand, just to be kind. I did not see many firelizards in the crowd when we sang." And those he'd seen were blues and greens.

"No, most clutches we have found have gone to the Weyr or to Nerat Hold," Mavi said. "Very well. Let me find the girl and we'll show you where both rooms are."

"Thank you," Robinton said. "You are too kind."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>As with my other fics, updates will go up on AO3 (see my profile for a link) first, then come to this site. You can subscribe to me on AO3 though for email notifications. Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

_Slish. Slish. Slish. Slosh._ Small waves steadily lapped against the side of his boat as Robinton climbed from the dock onto its deck, a glow lantern carefully held in one hand. It was morning...technically...but gusts of wind and howling rain outside the great docking cavern kept everything in a dim twilight. He seemed to be the only one on the stone docks; all the real sea men were in the Hold, taking care of the duties that were done when the fishing wasn't good and the seas sullen.

When he slipped down the ladder into the tight confines of the lower level of his boat, he found his chest there underneath one of three hammocks, still locked tight. He'd debated whether to bring it in last night or not, for it contained maps of Southern with contributions from Piemur, Sebell, and Menolly all worked in, and he knew full well even for a sleepy, conservative hold such as this one such maps were worth their weight in any possible luxury you could name. What he had more or less was a map to freedom for any youngster with the ambition to go South and hack out a Hold for himself and his people from those verdant wilds. With directions to point the way, even those unlikely to explore on their own might get bitten by the holding bug to seize a piece of the land for themselves.

And while Robinton wasn't exactly the sort of person to stand in front of well-channeled ambition, and the long-term plan _was_ to funnel the right people to the right places on that massive, lush continent, there would be many problems, and many questions, if anyone saw the extent of _his_ personal maps at this particular time.

So, he worried a little when such a thing was left with no guardian among the type of people who would instantly recognize what it was, and could make use of it. Yet, the best protection was obscurity. If he hauled it out so he could personally keep an eye on it, _everyone_ would be curious. An unexpected Masterharper on a boat was one thing. An unexpected Masterharper on a boat with a mysterious box was a _story_.

Where was Zair when he needed him? Or Menolly's faire. They'd sent them to Sebell and Silvina, and while Sebell might be difficult to find, out as he was on his own Robinton-directed jaunts, Silvina would be at the Hall.

Perhaps, finding Sebell in sunny Southern, they'd decided to let this wretched northern weather pass before returning to their Master and Mistress.

Robinton sighed, and opened the chest with his key to quickly check the contents, then locked it up again. It wasn't that he thought Menolly's home hold was full of thieves—in fact, he had to admit it was the least-likely of any crimes he could imagine them committing—but, well. He'd be glad when they could stow a firelizard or three in here to give any potential strangers a surprise. He could hear the shouts of a few men and lads on the docks now through the hatch, so it seemed like the docks weren't going to be deserted the entire length of the storm. But, the thick wood and the hearty lock—made by Fandarel himself—would have to do for now.

Inspection done, Robinton gathered up his glow-lantern once more, putting the handle in his teeth as he ascended the ladder.

And he discovered that the hollering and shouting wasn't just lads kicking up their heels, or even folks deciding to tend to one of the boats floating here...there was a new ship coming in, covered in men with their heavy weather gear, which looked strange when you saw how their feet were bare for gripping the wooden planks and taut ropes of the ship.

Robinton removed the lantern from his teeth and watched this new ship enter the cavern, masts left high, for a moment, then a different shout caught his attention. It was Menolly, looking for him. He waved at her, and she skedaddled over to their ship and boarded.

"Oh am I glad to see that one come in," she told him, once she was on the deck.

"Are you now?" he asked, reaching over to grip her shoulder in welcome. She seemed to be in all one piece after a night of sleeping in her childhood room, and he smiled at his worry and whimsy.

"That's Alemi's ship. Well, not _his-_his ship, but he's on it."

"I was wondering why I didn't see him last night," Robinton said.

"Yeah, I suppose the storm's let up enough that they decided to pull up anchor and head home. But _we're_ staying here," she said firmly.

"Are we?" Robinton asked, with a smile.

"A ship that big can weather things this skiff can't," she said confidently.

He reached over to tuck a strand of her dark wavy hair behind an ear. It was an intermediate length—not as cropped as it was when she was riding dragons regularly, but also not as long as he'd seen it. She glanced over at him, then realized what she'd been pontificating about, and lowered her eyes.

"Is this where I say you can take the Harper out of the Sea Hold, but can't take the Sea Holder out of the Harper?" Robinton asked.

Menolly sighed, her thin shoulders heaving. "I suppose so. My father would get angry if he heard me talking like that to you; to him, I'm no more Sea Woman than I am Harper. I shouldn't be advising you."

"Then who does he think navigated our ship here in the first place?" Robinton asked. "_I_ was heaving my guts over the edge the entire time."

She gave him a worried glance. "If I'd known you'd catch seasickness that badly Master, I would have gotten something from Master Oldive, or the port we left from, to help with it."

Master Robinton shook his head. "It doesn't help."

"...you've been seasick like this before and didn't mention it?" she asked, raising her eyebrows at him.

It amused him how quickly she went from being appalled he only had _her_ to rely on in such things, to authoritative once more. Perhaps someday she would find her balance between the modes. Then he cleared his throat. "It's...all in my head, dear. Droughts do nothing for it."

Her eyes still were on his face, questioning.

Robinton watched the ship that held Menolly's favorite brother on it as it threw ropes to the dock, and men scurried around to secure them. He couldn't tell any of the men apart in their bulky rain gear, much less pick out which one was Alemi. "When I was not much older than you are now, I was caught in a springtime storm in a ship about the same size as this one," and he tapped a booted foot on the deck they stood on. "I went down to get the weather gear, and I was able to put mine on, but the storm became so severe so quickly that she couldn't take enough time away from the tiller to get dressed."

"She?" Menolly asked in surprise.

"You're not the only woman with seafaring skills, Menolly," he said a bit peevishly. "No matter what your Hold may think of the matter of women in their Craft." He paused, surprised at his sudden anger, and then felt shame that he'd taken it out on Menolly. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't growl at you. I know you don't think that of yourself," and he patted her on the back again. "To make a long story short, we made it back to port eventually, but we both came down with a lung sickness, and she died of it a couple of sevendays later. I, obviously, recovered." He gave half a weary smile at her. "And that's why my nerves cause me to do a fluent impression of severe seasickness on ships of this size. I can dose myself to the gills on one of Oldive's concoctions and all it does is make my contributions to the sea more colorful."

"I'm sorry," Menolly said. "I didn't know."

"Of course not, I didn't tell you. I don't think Sebell knows either—but then I've been avoiding the topic of a sea voyage on a small boat with him for a very long time. Of course, times being what they are, I couldn't avoid it forever." He sighed. "I was..._hoping_ that so many turns would have dulled the reaction, but I wasn't very much use to you after all, so I suppose not." He stood quietly for a moment, still watching the ship and pondering. Then another movement caught his eye. "Oh look," he said in a lighter tone that she would know was a very obvious ploy to change the subject. "There's Elgion, come to join us for a party on the docks. Or so I assume. Whoops, perhaps not. He's going towards Alemi's ship. I don't think he saw us," Robinton said.

Menolly dutifully glanced over at Elgion industriously walking away from them so he could make his way to the other side of the docks, and laughed.

"Am I missing out on a joke somewhere?" Robinton asked.

"Alemi told me a lot about Elgion," Menolly said.

"Really."

"They're quite good friends."

_ "Really,"_ Robinton drawled.

"Do you want to go join them?"

Robinton turned his head to look down at her. "Will it be awkward?"

"With fifteen other men swarming around the place? No. No awkwardness. Just hellos."

"Lead the way then," Robinton said, then followed her off their boat.

Despite the ongoing rain outside, there was now enough light entering dimly into the cavern now that Robinton closed the shutter on his lantern as they walked, and the two of them quickly caught up to Elgion, and walked next to him, one bracketing him on each side.

"Masterharper, good morning," he said, looking left and then right. "And you too, Menolly."

"Whose ship is this?" Robinton asked. "That braved the storm?"

"It's Captained by Menolly's elder brother Yavi, and crewed by his wife's siblings. Alemi is on it as well."

"I can't believe Alemi doesn't have his own ship yet," Menolly said under her breath, making a face. "He's better'n all of them combined. And _not_ just because I like him!"

"Ooooh...you don't want to hear about that," Elgion said.

The two Harpers looked at him.

"I'll...tell you when we're not in mixed company. _Or_ around Alemi. He's more than a little angry about the ship-thing."

"Ship-thing," Robinton said.

"Mmhmm," Elgion said. "Yes sir."

"So is Yavi Yanus' eventual successor?" Robinton asked, as they arrived close enough to watch the fishermen unload the ship and its catch of fish but not so close they'd get in the way.

"Possibly," Elgion said. "It's more certain than it used to be, at least. Which is," and he coughed. "Also related to the 'ship-thing'."

"My father's never been sure who should come after him," Menolly confided to her Master. "He's torn between bloodlines and experience. He wasn't the son of the previous Holder...he was a great-nephew, actually. Created a few feuds when he became Holder. Some days he wants to avoid that, and that's when he looks at Yavi and Alemi and all the rest of the boys. Other days he's staring at all the captains in the Hold, and their sons, the ones he's gone to sea with for turns and turns."

Robinton made a grimace of distaste. Some Holders—and Lord Holders, such as Groghe—liked to pit their numerous offspring against one another, to see what talent—or ambition—rose to the top. But it was quite another thing when the candidate pool was opened to non-family when there were still capable and willing sons available. It wasn't against the Charter...Holders had been known to give a Hold to a capable fosterling instead of a direct descendent...but things could get bloody when expectations and hopes were thwarted.

"She has the tune of it," Elgion said. "Not that _you_ wouldn't, Journeywoman, being who you are and where we are. But, so far as it touches Harper affairs," and he shrugged. "Not very much, as I can see. I keep an eye on it in case I have to mediate."

"Good man," Robinton murmured.

It was then one of the fishermen noticed the three Harpers standing out of the way, watching, and tossed back his hood and gave them a whooping greeting. Then he jogged over to them.

For a second, it looked like he was going to barrel into Elgion and give lie to Menolly's assurances that things would not be awkward, but then he swept his little sister up in a tight hug. "Menolly! I never—what are you doing _here_?"

"Oh, you're soaked right through, Alemi," Menolly said. "Put me down before I drown. I'm here with Master Robinton." Despite her command, however, she hugged him back just as tightly, wet gear and all.

And the young sailor blinked over at Robinton over her shoulder. "Masterharper," he said, perplexed, as if it were just as likely to see Master Robinton at Half-Circle Sea Hold as it was to see Ramoth. And perhaps it was.

"You missed them performing last night for the hold, Alemi," Elgion said.

"No! I _did_? _You_ did?" he asked Menolly, pointing an accusing finger at her even as he kept one arm wrapped around her shoulders.

"She performed beautifully," Robinton said dryly. "As my Journeywoman."

"And I _missed_ that? You played in front of the _whole_ hold? This _bloody_ storm—" he swore under his breath, disappointment that he hadn't been there clear.

"—well, that storm is the reason we're here in the first place," Menolly said softly. "Even if it prevented you from getting back to harbor more quickly."

Alemi looked into her eyes, then grinned. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm not surprised. You'll play tonight?"

"If the weather doesn't change," Robinton confirmed, pleased about Alemi's enthusiasm to his sister's playing. It was clear _he_ also wanted her to show their parents they'd been wrong about her. Robinton would happily welcome any allies into Menolly's corner.

"Weather's not going to change," Alemi said, confidently shaking his curly-haired head.

"Ho! Alemi! We have fish over here!" one of the other fishermen shouted.

"Fish? Really? I'm shocked," Alemi said in a tone that carried to the Harpers around him but not any further. "I really hate Plena's brothers," he muttered.

"Plena is Yavi's wife," Elgion informed them quietly.

"I'd like to hear you play, tonight, Menolly. If you don't see me at dinner, will you come find me? We should have this," and he nodded back at the ship and their catch of fish, "done by then, but if not—"

"We'll find you, Alemi," Master Robinton assured him as Menolly nodded vigorously and gave her brother another squeeze.

"Thank you, sir. Back to the fish!" and he reached out to give Elgion a clout on the shoulder before returning to his crewmates to give them the hand they desired.

"Did you tell him what you wanted to tell him?" Menolly suddenly inquired of Elgion as Alemi walked away.

Elgion gave her a glance out of the corner of his eye. "I was going to tell him about _you_, but you conveniently showed up. Then there wasn't any need to state the obvious with you standing next to me."

"'Menolly? Really? I'm shocked,'" Robinton quoted, mimicking Alemi's earlier words in another context.

Harper Elgion laughed. "Even so." Then he turned around and began to walk away...then hesitated, realizing Menolly and Robinton wouldn't necessarily follow him. He had obviously grown used to his place in the Sea Hold.

With a grin, Robinton followed the Journeyman and Menolly caught up so they were once again bracketing him as they walked back down the docks. "Tell us about this ship-thing," Robinton prompted.

Elgion groaned, and wiped a hand down his face. "Well, it all started about a turn ago, when one of the captains came down sick. _That_ actually occurred out at sea, right after another illness swept through the Hold. So the ship was already running with a motley crew, with some men from Sea Holds down the coast. Alemi, the captain, and one other fellow were actually the only ones from Half-Circle, although the ship was a Half-Circle ship. When the captain went a-bed, collapsed under the strain of trying to hide his illness from everyone, it was Alemi that stepped up to Captain, both because he was lucky enough to be senior Fisherman in that lot (the other Holds loaned their youngsters who weren't tied to one of their own ships yet), and because there was a bit of concern with having a non-Half-Circle man captaining a Half-Circle ship. So Alemi Captained that ship, kept the crew together even though they were prone to frachetting and griping like new, untried crews do, and came home with the old captain slumbering his fellis away and a good catch of fish, which was divided between the holds.

"Things like this are often how young men get noticed and promoted in the Fishing Craft. It's not quite like Harpering where any Journeyman with the abilities and who wants it can find themselves in charge of a small hold's singing and teaching or sent out on a Journey route. You can have trained and experienced Fishermen who've walked the tables waiting for _turns_ until an opportunity comes up. Alemi has a good head on his shoulders, and he knows this, so he starts working it from this angle while the memory is fresh in everyone's minds, trying to get himself taken on as some Captain's Second...or even Captain himself if there's a ship somewhere that isn't already spoken for.

"Half-Circle wasn't the only one who noticed his prowess, though. Two of the men on the ship wanted to ride his wake, if you know what I mean. So they hatched up a plan back at their hold, along with one of their siblings—"

"—is this sibling 'Plena'?" Menolly asked.

Elgion scowled at her for interrupting his story. "—and right about then was when Yanus unveiled that they'd made a deal with another hold, an inland one, for their timber...enough for a new ship."

Menolly whistled. "A new ship. Bet my brothers went nuts."

"That's an understatement. They trotted out their turns of experience, got people to vouch for them, but Alemi has the same experience, and people to vouch for _him_ too, and what he had—proof that a ship with his hand at the helm could come back safe and profitable with the men in good cheer—none of the others but Yavi had.

"So, the running was between Alemi and Yavi. And this was where the two fellows from the other Hold sprang their plan. They approached him, and said if he took them on as crew, and espoused their sister—who, mind you, is quite a pretty woman—they'd be able to get _their_ hold behind Alemi as well, an alliance between Holds, and Yavi, while having support and age, definitely couldn't beat _that_."

"Is the ship that just came in the one?" Robinton asked.

"Yes sir."

"So what happened?" Menolly asked.

Elgion shook his head. "I don't know the full details. But one sevenday Alemi was telling me about Plena, and debating if he should court her, and the next she was with Yavi."

"Cooing on his arm?" Menolly asked, because she'd seen the way women looking to marry well acted. Fear for one's future made many do desperate and petty things.

"No," Elgion said. "But one moment Alemi was the darling that looked like he was going to get the ship, and the next—well, you saw him get off of his brother's ship just now. He's not even Second."

"He turned her down as wife?" Robinton asked.

Spreading his hands, Elgion said, "I don't know. He asked me for advice, and I gave it, but he hadn't made a decision that I was aware of."

"What advice did he ask for?" Menolly asked.

"He wanted to know how espousals were done elsewhere. I gave him a few examples, from cot-holders to Lord Holders. He asked me about the Hall." Elgion rubbed his cheek, and glanced at Robinton. "Are _any_ of the Masters wed? I couldn't remember any, but that seemed so _strange._ I've met many other Crafters outside of the Hall who were wed."

Robinton had never really thought about it directly, but once it was pointed out to him, knew why it was so. "Many of us," Robinton said musingly, "Came of age—and the rank to support a family—when Fax's persecution was at its highest. And, I admit, we were an active thorn in his side. Our duty as Harpers is to teach and spread information, and we continued doing so. But women were reluctant to wed our Journeymen then—some of which who are now Masters—because there was no guarantee Fax wouldn't suddenly expand his conquest into the area that they were stationed or Journeying. Fax and his men treated the wives of Harpers...abominably. Sometimes worse than the Harpers themselves. And if Fax ever broke into Lord Groghe's domain..." Robinton paused, and shrugged, forcibly putting the ugly memories away from him. Elgion had asked about marriage, that was all, and marriage was a happy topic, not a sour one. "Without encouraging you to pry into anyone's personal affairs—"

"Oh no," Elgion said quickly.

"—you could say some Crafters at the Hall wed as dragonriders do." Robinton gave a half-smile. "Informally and fluidly, and keep their heads down about it."

"Ah," Elgion said. "Well, I told him what I knew then, and he listened. The funny thing is, I don't think he turned her down. It was almost as if Yavi made her a better offer before he'd fully decided, and she gave the alliance Alemi had been pondering to him instead."

"Huh," Menolly said. But that's all she said, although she studied her fellow Journeyman closely.

Robinton tilted his head at her for a moment, but although her eyes moved to him, she didn't elaborate. "So our young fisherman is still dancing to others' tunes," he said in a soft voice.

"That seems to be common for men in this Hold," Elgion said, his brow a little furled. It looked to Robinton as if the man was pondering how as a Harper the path behind _him_ was quite different, and so was the path forward, even if he rested here at the Sea-Hold in the now. "But he's wroth the opportunity was taken from him unexpectedly. He still doesn't know _why_. It was _done_, and none of the parties involved are given to drama in public."

"Perhaps I can find out," Robinton murmured.

Both Harpers glanced at him in alarm.

Robinton smiled enigmatically for a moment, but when this just seemed to alarm both of his crafters further, relented. "I have nothing to do here except talk to people until the storm passes. I may as well have a goal to talk towards, and Alemi will have some peace of mind if I am successful."

"Master," Menolly said with worry.

"I promise to consult you before putting any schemes in play," Robinton told her with a smile playing on his wide lips. "Both of you."

She blushed. "You don't—"

"No, I don't have to, but I also don't practice the art of being a _complete_ thread-eaten watch-wher when it's unavoidable, and you both care for him."

Elgion gave Robinton a bland look, which Robinton gleefully ignored.

"Now. Tell me what a day like this in Half-Circle Sea Hold is usually like, and how my Journeywoman and I may contribute to it in a productive fashion."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Notes: <strong>As with my other fics, everything is updated on Archive of our Own first, then on this site about a week later. See my profile for the link there.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

"Oh, it's so very _good_ of you to sit with us, Petiron, and play," an ancient, _ancient_ little old auntie said to Robinton in the sort of high-pitched squeaky voice you only heard from very young children or grandmothers with over a hundred turns to their tally.

This was the fourth time the woman had called Robinton by his sire's name, and _this_ time he finally goaded himself beyond both unexpected shock and the stilled tongue of politeness to grasp her arm, so she knew she was being spoken to, and say in her ear, "My name is Robinton, Auntie."

She paused, her face going slack-jawed comically as she processed this. "Then what happened to Petiron?" she asked, peering up at him with huge brown eyes.

"He passed on six turns ago," Robinton told her, his voice gentle. It was obvious her memory was no longer firm. "The Hold's Harper is now Elgion, and I am just passing through."

"Oh." She thought more, and Robinton reluctantly came to the conclusion that he should have swallowed his pride and let her call him by his sire's name as the "new" knowledge seemed to sadden her. "Are you _sure_ you're not Petiron?" she asked, as if Robinton might be playing a cruel trick on her. Or perhaps she was making a joke, for then she said, "You're a handsome young fellow, just like he!"

So he said, "And you, my dear, are the most beautiful maiden I've met today!" And they laughed together, for both of them knew it was a polite lie—but it was a _fun_ one, to remember when you were once young and flirty.

"She won't remember your name by the noon meal, Masterharper," another old auntie said. Her wheeled chair and the blanket set over frail, stick-like legs showed why she was no longer able to work with the able-bodied women, but her mind seemed sharp. She knitted, gnarled fingers slowly but persistently taking thick woolen yarn and weaving it into a warm hat for some sailor's head, and she watched him with solemn but clear eyes.

"Oh shush," the ancient auntie said. "I'll remember him. He said his name was Elgion. He's the new Harper."

Robinton held his tongue, and the other woman rolled her eyes. Robinton winked at her, and then he began to pick out a careful, whimsical tune on his gitar.

A few more old women joined them as he played, helped into the room with the roaring hearth fire by young hold lasses who shyly averted their eyes from him in modesty. Robinton tried to imagine Menolly as one of these Hold girls, with the sturdy but plain dresses, and couldn't, for all that Menolly had her shy moments around him too. Oh, he saw the stamp of kindred in their faces, every woman in this room was likely related to his Journeywoman by some degree or other, but _his_ Menolly was no more a soul of this stolid and steady Sea Hold than _he_ was. She had an undeniable fire in her, bright as a dragon's flame.

Thinking about this, he watched more old ladies and a few old uncles come into the warmroom. Once they were all settled and peering nearsightedly at him trying to decide if it really _was_ Masterharper Robinton come to visit them, he let his meandering, pleasant song drift _between_. Then he said hello, and asked for their names one by one, and memorized them all with an old mnemonic trick he'd used many times before, and would use many times again.

"What does the Masterharper of Pern want with us?" one old Uncle, Borton, said, as a few scandalized holders shushed him for his temperamental question. He slapped their soothing touches away. "Stop that. Why is he here? It's a fair question!"

"It is indeed, Uncle Borton," Robinton said. "I'm here threefold; one for your lovely fire—"

"—oh, it _is_ a lovely fire!" someone assured him. "Nice and warm for old bones."

"—two because Captain Yavis just pulled in with a gigantic catch of fish, and I really don't know _anything at all_ about fish, except that they're good to eat—"

"—are we having fish today? I'm tired of fish," Uncle Leftries said in what was supposed to be a quiet tone but was instead loud, adjusted as it was for the half-deaf companion next to him.

"—and three...I'd like to hear some stories, if you'd honor a..." and his eyes flicked around the room, "...a _young_ man's folly," Robinton said, deftly altering the course of his sentence when he realized they'd rightfully jeer him out of the room if _he_ complained about being _old_.

"Well, Elgion, what do you want to hear stories about?" the ancient auntie from before asked him earnestly. There were some snickers.

"How about Menolly?" Robinton asked brightly.

This was a fecund subject; Menolly, as the youngest child of Yanus and Mavi, had cared for most of them in that room, and those she hadn't cared for, had cared for _her_. Oh did they have stories about Menolly! Stories about her following Petiron around, stories about her beating the boys in footraces and in wrestling matches, stories about her stubbornness and moments of temper, how she was wrongheaded sometimes but sweet, and that she'd be a handful for her husband, or end up leading him by the nose.

The topic of Menolly had actually been a lead-in to the topic of Alemi, but Robinton found himself listening avidly for far longer than he had intended. This was a picture of Menolly from an entirely different perspective, and it fascinated him to see his Journeywomen from the eyes of her relatives. It also made him disapprove of her parents even more, for the oldest members of this community seemed much more curious about her move to the Harper Hall than anything...although the very old sometimes unbent considerably when they realized how close to death's door they were and how little time they had left. Also, his presence lent her path undoubtable legitimacy. It was difficult to remain resolute that a woman couldn't be a Harper when the Masterharper himself was sitting right in front your eyes insisting that she could.

Eventually and reluctantly, he began to steer them away from the topic of Menolly, by mentioning the ship he'd seen enter the covered harbor, and noting how new the ship seemed in comparison to the others. He couldn't actually tell the difference, his eye for ships was not that good, but he made an educated guess that a real sea holder could, by construction technique if not by anything else, like he could with an instrument.

"Oh, Yavi and Plena are a lovely couple, just lovely. Plena of course does not go on the ship, that's a bad place for a lone woman to end up, even if wedded, but Yavi's been pulling in fantastic catches, and she helps Mavi marshal everyone together for the gutting and drying. That ship's a Half-Circle design, did you know? Pulls in twice the fish!"

"It pulls in twenty-five percent more," Uncle Borton said. "I counted."

"Oh, shush, I was exaggerating for effect."

"And what did they exaggerate so that Alemi didn't get that ship?" Borton counted. "Exaggeration is a flaw. Except when in song," he added, deferring to Robinton's presence.

"I'm tired of arguing about that ship. Yavi is ours, just as much as Alemi is. What does it matter which lad got it?"

"It's wrong when one lies for it!"

"Shhh!" someone said, and the old auntie next to Uncle Borton leaned over and whispered in Borton's ear, her eyes flicking to Robinton for a moment.

Unfortunately, Borton did as he told and shut up.

When lunch time came around, and the young ladies of the hold came to help their elders to it, Robinton deftly wound his way over to Uncle Borton and offered his assistance. The older man stared at him with watery green eyes, then allowed Robinton to steady him as he took up his dual canes and slowly began to follow the rest of the Sea Hold's elderly. So slowly, in fact, that soon they were alone in the hallway, creeping forward one quarter-step at a time, which was a truly glacial pace even to one as patient as Robinton was.

"What do you want with me?" the old man asked finally, bracing his canes, then sliding a foot forward.

"You remind me of Menolly," Robinton said.

The old Uncle gave him the oddest look. "You're going senile yourself if you think that's a proper compliment for a young lady. I don't see her using four feet to get around."

Robinton laughed. "I was complimenting _you_, Uncle."

"Aye, and to sweeten me up for the questioning. I was Holder before Yanus, you know. I'm not entirely thick." Before Robinton could follow that lead, he switched the topic back. "How under the Red Star do think I'm like Menolly?"

The Masterharper took a gamble. "You're intelligent. And you have a temper."

Borton looked mystified. "Why would a young woman who got what she wanted be temperamental with _you_? Isn't that like questioning the Search rider?"

"Oh, it's rarely with _me_. She gets angry at others when she feels justice has not been served. Her instincts are very keen on that matter." Robinton sighed. "Truth be told—"

"Ha," the ex-Holder of Half-Circle muttered. "I'm on to you, Harper."

"—she's been a bit nervous at visiting here as her departure was not...conventional, shall we say."

"We thought she was eaten up by thread until Elgion and Alemi spoke up a few turns back. _They_ knew she was alive all along!"

"No search parties went out," Robinton said. "As I said, she has an innate sense of fairness. I respected her wishes and kept knowledge...minimal."

Borton was quiet for two more very slow steps. "I would have sent a party," he said finally. "Yanus is..." he said, then trailed off and sighed. "He is a good Holder. He makes good trades. He gets the in-landers to eat fish every day so we don't have to, and they pay well for it, in goods and marks. I could never manage that."

_Sacrificing the good of a few for no discernable benefit to the many is a fallacy,_ Robinton thought. But there was no point at berating an old man for the actions of his successor. It seemed that perhaps Yanus had disappointed his predecessor anyhow. Could that be why he had treated Menolly so harshly, for disappointing him?

Not that that was any _excuse_...

Robinton and Uncle Borton walked in silence for a few more minutes, until the quick patter of footsteps made them both look up as a young woman dashed down the hall towards them. "We're coming," Robinton said jovially to her. "But you should tell the masons that their trick of making the hall longer isn't all that amusing when it's lunchtime!"

The girl seemed in no mood for jokes. "Are you Master Robinton?"

Robinton was certain she knew that he was, for in a hold this small, anyone new, regardless of rank, was remarked upon. But he said politely, "I am—"

"Then you need to come quick...Menolly's been hurt! And there's firelizards everywhere!"

Robinton's heart went still, then gave one large, uneven spasm before racing ahead as if he were already in full gallop. Then, next to him, Uncle Borton suddenly gained the ability to take full steps as if the tiny old-man-steps had all been a sham, and actually pulled ahead of Robinton before he went into full sprint and left the two of them behind.

As Robinton ran, the only thing he could think of was the promise he'd given Menolly before they'd turned the boat to take shelter here from the storm. _Trust me_.

He hadn't thought they might try to harm her physically.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

It wasn't difficult to locate Menolly; even if Zair hadn't popped out of _between_ scolding him for-what, being slow? For being terrified? For the river of uncharacteristic molten rage that irrationally tempted him to try to solve matters with the edge of his belt knife if he could only identify a target?-he could have just followed the cacophony of ten screaming firelizards, and the shouts of both Alemi and Elgion who were trying to reach the still form at the bottom of a flight of stairs and failing as Menolly's protectors tried to claw their eyes out. Alemi had a bleeding mark on his forehead, and Elgion bore signs of bright blood on the neck of his shirt.

_Make them let me through!_ Robinton directed at Zair, and the bronze, wailing himself, bravely dove into the cloud of wings and tails and teeth, distracting them long enough that Robinton, tall body hunched almost double, could duck under them to kneel at his Journeywoman's side.

Menolly lay sprawled on her back, with one shoulder slightly up on the wall, as if she'd mis-stepped higher on the stairs and tumbled down trying to grab for the stone railing before going head-over-heels. Robinton patted her shoulder. "Menolly? Can you hear me?" he asked, and checked as well as he could to make sure her neck wasn't broken, but there was no response, although she was breathing. Then a heavy weight slammed into his back and he almost fell forward over her as a vile hiss was sounded directly in his left ear and claws bit into shoulders heavily padded for firelizard landings. He caught himself with a hand against the wall and barked, "I'm _helping_ her, you fool of a firelizard!" at the hissing queen before reaching back with both hands to detach Beauty and throw her into the air with a practiced fling. She went _between_. Then all ten firelizards vanished after her, and there was only Zair, crying and zooming around over their heads, remaining. Then he, too, went _between._

In the temporary reprieve, Elgion and Alemi rushed over with a board, and the three of them began to ease her onto it, stopping to check the severity of the bleeding from Menolly's scraped jaw, her nose, the outer side of one hand, and other areas. There was already evidence of heavy bruising, as well. Remembering well Piemur's "accident" not too long ago, Robinton pulled off both of her boots, but found no evidence of grease when he examined the soles, and he was fairly certain with Menolly's firelizards that nobody would have been able to clean them so completely in the eight seconds it took a firelizard to travel between if she _had_ stepped in something. He did, however, have a moment to be thankful that she had chosen to wear trousers today; had she been in skirts, she probably _would_ have broken her neck.

"Yavi, take the forth corner!" Alemi said to one of the other fishermen who were hovering, and in response to this demand, a tall man who looked more like Menolly than any of her kin he'd met yet came over and joined their efforts. Then the four of them carried her towards the exits into the great cavern.

"Where are we going?" Robinton asked Elgion.

Alemi answered for Elgion. "Injury rooms are by the ships, so we don't have to carry sailors too far."

Elgion gave a short nod of confirmation.

"Are the firelizards going to come back?" Alemi added, as the four of them walked as smoothly as they could to keep the movement even for Menolly.

"Probably," Robinton said. "She has ten of them, plus my Zair, who is reacting to the others' distress. When they return, just keep thinking as loudly as you can that you're not going to hurt her, that you're trying to help. They're like dragons, in that they react strongly if they believe you're hurting their mistress. If you can convince them you're helping they might let you be."

"How did she manage to get ten of them?" Yavi asked. His voice was surprisingly deep-an unexpected basso compared to Alemi's tenor.

Robinton knew the full story, but had no intention of telling them she'd gotten all but one of them just a jump and skip from this Hold. Inevitably mean-spirited complaints would waft around that she hadn't shared. As if she should have, even if circumstances had permitted it! "She got them how she accomplishes all other extraordinary things in her life-by being herself," Robinton said. Then he took his eyes off of Menolly's still figure for a second, and glanced over at the sailor. Yavi was frowning at him. Robinton frowned right back and the man realized the Masterharper of Pern was directing that look at _him_ and he dropped his gaze.

The sloshing of waves against the docks began to be audible, and a moment later they rounded a corner and carefully fit themselves through the doorway to an injury room and set the board and Menolly down on the cot. As they did so, Robinton heard the sounds of women's voices behind him, Mavi in particular, and he leaned over and said in Alemi's ear, "Do you have sufficient Healing to assist your sister?"

"Our mother-" Alemi began.

Robinton swiftly cut that thought off. "Menolly needed the assistances of the Masterhealer to fix that hand your mother bungled the Healing of. Assuming she's not entirely incompetent in Healing, I don't want my best Journeyman and best composer crippled because of petty resentment over the status Menolly has attained in my Hall. The only ones that I _know_ have Menolly's best interests in their hearts right now are me, you, and Elgion. So I ask again: do you have sufficient Healing to assist your sister, until Zair returns and I can call for the Masterhealer?"

"Yes," Alemi said softly so it would not carry, after a hesitation. "All the men do, for shipboard accidents. We just...defer to the women's expertise while docked. They tend the wounded ones after the emergency care has been completed."

Robinton moved himself away from Alemi's ear. "Thank you, Captain Yavi, for your assistance in carrying her in."

Yavi was well-trained, and knew a dismissal when he heard it. He ducked out of the room.

"Elgion, don't let anyone in-anyone!" Robinton said, and nodded at the door.

Elgion nodded and went out to head off Mavi and anyone else who came with her. Alemi shut the door behind him.

Then they went to work examining and caring for Menolly's wounds.

"Her neck and back don't seem to be broken," Alemi commented after a bit. "She's bruised up, however. There may be fractures we can't see. I wish she were awake so we could talk to her and see how she responds..." Alemi rose and took a small box from a shelf and went over to one of the glow baskets to transfer some glows to the smaller box. That done, he returned and leaned over Menolly, lifting each eyelid and waving the glowbox in front of her eyes to see how, or if, her eyes reacted.

Robinton waited for Alemi's verdict.

The young man let her eyelid fall back into place and hesitated, the small glowbox still in his hand.

"Well?" Robinton said, then slightly moved his head towards the door as he heard voices approach outside, and Elgion's voice halting them before they entered.

Alemi glanced at the door too, then back to Robinton. "Masterharper...lean over and tell me what color the whites of her eyes seem to be to you." And Alemi lifted her eyelid again, and moved the glowbox near.

Robinton frowned and did as the younger man asked. "I see no blood or anything, but it is difficult to see subtle color with glow-light."

"Orange? Yellow?" the other man prompted.

The Harper studied Menolly's unfocused eyes again, then touched Alemi's hand so he'd let her eyes fall shut. "If the cast of the glows aren't playing tricks, yes, I do see yellow." He glanced at Alemi. "She's too young for her eyes to be yellowed with age, obviously."

Alemi snorted. "There's a relative of the packtail, the acrobat fish."

"Acrobat fish?"

Alemi gave a half-smile. "It stands on its head in the mud."

"I see. What does the acrobat fish have to do with Menolly's condition?"

"Like the packtail, its slime is dangerous if it gets into the blood. It's edible, if you wash and gut and cook it right, but it's so small it doesn't make sense to go to all that effort when there's other better, easier, and just as tasty fish around. Sometimes a Healer or Smith will become interested in the potential properties of the slime and oil and one of our Apprentices or junior Journeymen will be asked to collect some. When processed and ingested, it makes you delusional. It doesn't have any Healing properties when prepared as a salve or drunk, or none that I was told about, it just makes you see and hear things for a while. And it turns the whites of your eyes orange or yellow or greenish."

"Does it need to be processed? Or can this happen if she just ate one that was badly prepared?"

"Menolly knows her fish. She wouldn't snack on those like fingertails."

"But if one were sliced up and slipped into soup, could it cause these effects so many hours later? Since it's similar to packtail, when all the identifying features such as the head or tail or scales are removed, can you tell what it is from the flesh alone?"

"Not in this case. Did you have soup last night?"

Robinton recalled that Alemi had still been out at sea then. "Fish soup."

Alemi grunted, and looked thoughtful. "But nobody else is sick," he said after mulling Robinton's words over. "For the acrobat fish to make you sick enough to fall down a flight of stairs, you have to eat a lot of it, and it has to be undercooked. You can eat a little of it even raw and have no effects. That's why the Healer was concentrating it before doing his experiments. And why the fish isn't precicely considered poisonous. You have to be pretty incompetent at cooking-or really like your food raw with scales and slime on-to get a big enough dose that will do more than make you faintly dizzy."

"So Menolly would have noticed her soup was off if there were chunks of raw acrobat fish in it," Robinton said.

Alemi nodded.

"What does the concentrated oil taste like?"

"Fish oil."

Robinton raised his eyebrows. "So a fish soup that tasted like fish..."

Menolly's brother shook his head. "But it doesn't make _sense_. You sat with Holder Yanus, right?"

Robinton nodded.

"So if mother served everyone from the table pot-"

"There were no communal dishes. Not at our table at least."  
>"So you were served by who? By Mavi? From the kitchens?"<p>

"No, by a young woman...Rellana."

"Rellana?" Alemi scowled.

"I was also told that Rellana was the young woman Menolly was bunking with last night," Robinton said. He would need to talk to this woman.

"Two snakes, one stone," the fisherman murmured, his earlier worry changing to anger.

"I wasn't aware that Half-Circle Sea Hold harbored such disdain for me," Robinton murmured.

_That_ brought a look of alarm to Alemi's face. "No no, not _you_ Masterharper. Not intentionally at least. I don't think even Plena's family could be so dull-witted as to target the _Masterharper of Pern_ in this...this..._petty_..." and he shook his head. "They must have thought I'd clandestinely tried to bring in a Harper to argue my case...and saw an opportunity to cast one stone, to drive out two snakes. Menolly and I. The dissenters in the family. So they incapacitate _her_...and I wager they'll try to accuse me of using my 'Harper connection'..." Alemi's words drifted off, as he thought furiously.

It was news to Robinton that Alemi had any particular sort of "Harper connection". Menolly cared for her brother, and they exchanged letters periodically, but Robinton knew for a fact there were many, many more people Menolly conversed with more regularly (and conversing was easy for her to do with ten firelizards), and there were many other causes that Menolly would champion first before any sort of squabble among her kin, even if it involved her brother Alemi. He raised an eyebrow, a silent query for more information, but the man was lost in thought. So Robinton took that moment to glance down at Menolly again, but she seemed unchanged. Silent and unconscious, with only her chest's steady rise and fall showing she were still alive. "What can Menolly do that Journeyman Elgion can not?"

"Menolly ranks Elgion, and even if certain people deny that, others see it clearly. If she says something, it's like you said it. Without quite bringing you here...or a Lord Holder or a Weyrleader."

"Elgion also speaks for me," Robinton said, in warning.

"So he worries," Alemi said. "Frequently. But he's _in_ the boat, living with us. Doesn't like to rock it too much. And Menolly, she got off the boat turns ago, she's up on the pier, so she can rock it all she wants."

"It sounds like you've thought this out."

"Ha!" The laugh was humorless. "Only after people started lying and whispering. This isn't something you get the Masterharper of Pern involved in, though. It's not like...thread falling where it shouldn't, or some hold being invaded by its neighbor...it's just a _ship_, by Faranth's breath!"

Robinton didn't point out that most people would think even _those_ events wouldn't warrent the interest of the Masterharper, falling as they did in Weyr and Hold jurisdiction respectively. But he understood Menolly's brother's point. "Yet I'm very, _very_ involved now."

The voices outside the door began to rise in heated anger, and as both of them turned to look at it, Robinton heard, "-turn aside, Harper, you are in _my_ Hold-"

"Do you think _Rellana_ is still in this Hold?" Robinton asked.

"I don't know."

"Perhaps Holder Yanus will know, then," Robinton said, and moved towards the door to rescue Elgion before Yanus sacked the Harper Journeyman. "I'd like to talk to her. In retrospect, it seems she was very nervous when serving me fish soup last night."

"Shells and shards," Alemi said, taking in that implication.

"If it helps, I'm feeling fine so far," Robinton said with false merriment. Then he opened the door.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Holder Yanus's glare moved away from Elgion to focus on Robinton the second Robinton appeared from the sickroom, and Robinton was reminded of Menolly, during the rare times when she got her back up and went off on some misbehaving apprentice or journeyman who didn't live up to her sense of righteousness. It was slightly unsettling.

Even more unsettling was Yanus' hand firmly clasped on Rellana's shoulder, hard enough that the young woman would probably have bruises soon. Rellana's face was streaked with tears, and there were more welling at the corners of her eyes, and she trembled like a newborn runner foal.

"You may be Masterharper, Robinton," Holder Yanus said without preamble, "But if you ever use one of your _Craftsmen_ again to prevent me from accessing one square inch of _my_ Hold—"

"The flag is flying, Holder," Yavi said to his father, coming up behind him in a hurry. "A Benden dragon should be here shortly. They're very good about answering our flags, particularly in weather like this."

Yanus glanced at his son, and didn't finish his threat, although Robinton was a little curious about what it would have been. Instead, Yanus let go of Rellana and gave her a shove in her back so she stepped towards Robinton. "Take her. When the dragonrider's here to stand for the Weyr, I'll approve whatever punishment you and the rider decide on."

Robinton blinked. Whatever he had been expecting upon hearing Yanus yelling at Elgion through the door... Robinton looked at Rellana for a second, assessing, and she promptly burst into tears as if he were renowned throughout Pern for his cruelty instead of his compassion, and sank to her knees.

Was the woman a natural actress?

Or merely an intensely frightened scapegoat, as Yanus rushed to get Robinton out of his Hold and away from the real truth?

This made no sense. If there was some family-based scheme against Alemi that had gone awry and interfered with Robinton and Menolly, why by the shells of Faranath's clutch would Yanus and Yavi invite a dragonrider from Benden—known allies of Robinton—into the mix? Surely it was any small Holder's nightmare to have Robinton about under such circumstances, much less the Benden Weyrleaders (who would likely get involved as soon as they knew Robinton and one of their riders were) and perhaps the Lord of Nerat if he got wind that something was afoot at Half-Circle that had the Masterharper and Benden Weyrleaders moving about. Robinton had expected to send Zair a-winging away to Benden, once the bronze returned, against protests on all sides that the mighty Weyr didn't have to be involved.

But here Yanus was, calling up the dragonriders of his own accord.

Robinton's immediate thought was that if they wanted dragonriders here, he did not, because their presence might mask something he should know.

But that should perhaps not be his first concern. What would happen to Menolly if no dragonrider was summoned? If she convalesced here? Alemi talked about the acrobat fish like a thoughtful man would; what could a Healer, a Smith do with it? But what happened more typically when man was not mucking about with concentrating it? It could have been ill-luck that Menolly had fallen down the stairs while under its influence.

...in which case, Yanus would call in the dragonriders because he had nothing to hide, and an easy scapegoat. Rellana, for some catty reason, had taken the sort of "games women played" to an unusual extreme, and was handed over to Robinton as punishment. Perhaps there was a young man that she felt Menolly might lead astray. If that's all that had happened, there was nothing at all to hide there. A dragonrider would come, whisk Robinton and Menolly away to the Healer Hall, and Elgion who would undoubtedly be dismissed from Half-Circle and go with them...

...and Alemi would be left to deal with the aftermath alone best he could, with no plausible reason for Robinton returning to investigate. Alemi did not fall under Robinton's jurisdiction—or protection—like Elgion and Menolly did.

The Harper began to see, clearly, the role he was being assigned to play. The notes were inked, the performers tuning themselves to Rellana's soft sobs...

...and yet, if Robinton danced on stage singing his _own_ tune with fire in his eyes and heart, changing the performance and stealing the show so that it was _his_ and not _theirs_, it was Menolly who may pay the price, _again_. And he could not bear that, not after having failed to protect her once. It was one thing to ask her to make sacrifices while she was aware and awake, and quite another—

"Mash'er!"

The dull cry was accompanied by sudden sounds of firelizards in the other room, and Robinton's own Zair appeared again and dropped onto Robinton's shoulder, chattering.

Robinton turned to Elgion. "Get her a handkerchief for _her_ nose and a glass of water," he told the Harper, nodding down at Rellana. Elgion would not let her go running off. Then Robinton turned heel and rushed to Menolly's side.

The firelizards were back, and arranging themselves around her. They were uncharacteristically noisy...well, even Menolly's well-trained firelizards could be noisy when they got themselves into a tizzy, but now they were uttering strange, lost noises that sounded like some of the sounds Zair had uttered upon hatching, but which Robinton hadn't heard since.

Had the firelizards been—

Then Robinton spotted Menolly's white knuckles gripping the side of the board she still lay upon, as if she weren't on solid ground but instead back on their boat, sloshing around on the churning stormy seas. She was still drugged, and it was affecting the firelizards now that she was awake.

Robinton sat on the edge of the healing cot and placed his hand over one of hers. "I am right here, my dear. I am right here. We think you've been dosed with something called the acrobat fish, and you took a nasty fall down some stairs—Piemur's going to be after you for stealing his trick you know—" and he let his voice hold mingled concern and humor as he "warned" her.

"—'Murr?" she said.

He heard the puzzlement in her slurred tone and realized that perhaps humor was not the best tack to try with someone under the influence of something mind-altering. Rubbing his hand soothingly on her forearm, he said, "—and a dragon's been called—"

"Mmm fi'e," she murmured, and turned her hand under his to grasp his wrist. Her grip was hard, as if she still was feeling tossed upon the decks of a ship, but then he felt a pulse, as she squeezed in a rhythm.

Or tried to...her tempo was as slurred as her speech.

He put his free hand over hers again, and said, "You hit your head. That's not 'fine' by my definition..."

"N' gragns." The tempo her hand squeezed felt like _fire-dragonette, _an ancient term for firelizards. "Gra. Ghe."

Robinton's brow furrowed. Either she was speaking of dragons again, or mangling Lord Groghe's name. But he couldn't figure out how the Lord of Fort played in to this, so it seemed likely the former.

"We need to go home, and get you to Master Oldive," Robinton said.

_Drown-death_, her squeezing said.

_Not received; repeat?_ He squeezed back, in drumbeat. "Menolly, your brother Yavi has put up a flag for a Benden rider—" he said, hoping repetition would make her understand.

_Black, blacker, blackest_, she squeezed. It wasn't drumcode this time; it was the actual beats of the song.

He hesitated for an instant, but other people were peering into the room, and he couldn't afford to act like Menolly was passing a secret message to him—even if she was. So he prattled on. "It'll probably be someone we know who comes. Perhaps your friends Miriam and Path—"

_Burn the holds_, her squeezing said, nonsensically. "Cold," she said.

Was she cold? Robinton looked around for some furs, and a second later Alemi passed him the edge of one. They put them over her, firelizards and all, and some of the bumps stayed snugged up to her sides under the furs, while one vanished _between_ and two others crawled out to be on top. "Or, if not them, maybe it'll be T'gellan—"

_The Masterharper is dead,_ she squeezed.

He stared at her.

"Gn." Menolly made an odd sound, then suddenly sat up.

Alemi, quicker on the uptake than Robinton, produced a bucket, and Menolly dry-retched into it.

It was actually a good performance for someone under the influence of a drug, but as he watched her, Robinton realized it was not real. The toxin had been consumed hours ago; none would be left in her stomach by now that could be voided by vomiting. Yet, Menolly wasn't a boy and didn't do boyish things like fake-vomiting to disgust her companions—

Robinton turned to Yanus. It was clear: Menolly did not want the rider to come. Perhaps for the same reasons as he. He prayed the reason behind it was sound, and not a product of fish-oil delusions. "Take the flag down. If she's concussed, which she may be if she's vomiting, she can't go _between_ anyway. We'll monitor her and send a firelizard direct to Fort Weyr if we need to, now that my Zair is back."

There was a long pause, as Yanus stared at him from the doorway, probably wondering if it were true concussed people should not go _between_. A small Holder would not know for sure.

Robinton stared right back, hoping his reputation for being close to Benden might make Yanus believe a Harper knew more than he about dragonrider matters, and Menolly retched again. This time, it sounded more sincere. If there was a difference between "sincere" vomiting, and "insincere".

"Very well. Take the flag down," Yanus told his son, still staring into Robinton's eyes.

Yavi vanished once again. Yanus began to turn away. Not once had he inquired about Menolly's health.

"Holder," Robinton said.

"Masterharper?" Yanus said, halting.

"I will require free rein in your Hold to investigate this 'mishap'."

There was a pause, as Yanus thought about this.

Robinton knew, if Yanus had been a Lord Holder, not a small Holder, and permission was denied, the autonomy of the Holds would dictate that Robinton would have to obey, barring a situation where Robinton was being brought in as Masterharper and a neutral observer by an alliance of other Lords or Weyrs or Crafters because of a situation that fell under one of _their_ domains. But things became less clear-cut when the head of a Pern-wide Craft came into conflict with a minor Holder whose authority was limited by the scope of his Holding's lands. Yanus could, strictly speaking, still throw Robinton out—Fax had done so for some of his minor holds even before he took a major one—but Yanus was no Fax.

"I have brought you the culprit," Yanus reminded Robinton.

Rellana made a pitiful sound.

"I would not be doing my duty, Holder, either as a Harper, the Masterharper, or as Menolly's Master and guide, if I do not investigate myself," Robinton said.

"Half-Circle's a simple seahold. I don't think you'll find the planet-wide conspiracies you may be accustomed to dealing with as Masterharper," Yanus said, shaking his head. "It doesn't take a man of great intellect to see what has happened here."

"Humans are never simple," Robinton said. "Especially when they claim to be. But you know your Hold better than I, and it may be that Rellana is indeed the person I seek. In which case, what I find will go into making the judgment fit the crime. Will you allow me access to your Hold and its people?"

Yanus was quiet, in that introverted, thoughtful way that Robinton had seen many Sea-Men possess. The man didn't want Robinton nosing around his Hold. Holders rarely did. Then he spoke. "I will allow it, provided—"

"I promise I will not purposely bar you from portions of your own Hold again, Holder. I intended no insult; Menolly, while not quite as unique as she used to be, what with the newest crop of Apprentices, is still a symbol of change within my Hall. She has been and probably will be again a target for fearful, jealous people and I take her safety seriously when it becomes clear there is a threat. I reacted in haste."

"She wouldn't be a target at all if she weren't in your Hall," Yanus said, a hint of a growl in his low voice.

Behind him, Mavi, who had joined them partway through the conversation, gasped at her husband's audacity, and gripped Yanus' arm.

"That's what Fax told the families of some of my Harpers, many turns ago," Robinton said. "If you're willing, later, perhaps we can discuss our philosophies in this area, and the reasons why I invited your youngest daughter into my Craft?"

Yanus looked like someone had stuffed fish bait, instead of a nice fish dinner, down his throat. Robinton wondered if it were the comparison to Fax, or the thought of sitting down for discussion. "Maybe," Yanus said, then he turned his back and walked away.

Mavi still lingered there, staring at Robinton, one hand against the door jamb as if bracing herself.

"Yes?" Robinton said gently.

"I don't know what Menolly has told you—she's always been prone to melodrama—but we are _not_ the sort of Holders that would have supported Fax," she said. "Nor did we."

"Mavi," Robinton said. "Why did Menolly's hand require the attentions of Masterhealer Oldive himself when she first came to my Hall?"

Mavi's face turned stony. Then she said, "Melodrama," and turned abruptly to walk away, her skirts swirling around her legs.

Yavi, who had also been watching, followed his mother. Only Elgion was left at the doorway, and Rellana, who was standing now but hiding her face in her hands. Elgion gave Robinton a nod, and began to lead Rellana out of earshot.

Robinton looked down at Menolly next to him, and saw that although she was laying down again, and her eyes closed, there was a furrow of worry between her brows. "They, obviously, have never met Piemur," he told her softly, and reached over to brush hair out of her face.

Her eyes fluttered open. "'Murr?" she said again.

"Never mind," Robinton said, and shook his head. If he kept mentioning the scamp as comic relief, she may, in her delirium, become afraid that he was here and in trouble and she had to protect him. "You rest, my dear. Alemi, do you mind watching my Journeywoman while I and Elgion go talk to Rellana?"

Alemi shook his head. "I don't mind. I'm good at placing buckets," he added with a crooked smile, but gave his younger sister a fond look too.

"If it helps, about half of that was 'melodrama'. Menolly didn't come to us with nearly as much as your mother thinks she did, but we made up for that by teaching it!"

"I _knew_ Elgion was holding out on me when he said Harpering isn't quite as exciting as sailing," Alemi said.

Robinton chuckled, then he snuck out of Menolly's much-looser grasp, coaxing Zair into her company instead. Not that she needed another firelizard, but Zair would come right to Robinton if something went wrong. She would be comforted by that, he hoped. "Speaking of Elgion, I'm hoping in addition to letting Rellana weep all over his shoulder, he's learned something from her. Do you think she's the real culprit?"

Alemi shrugged. "I don't know. Yanus found her very quickly. I would have been long gone if I had been her; there's a lot of caves and holes down the coast that are useless for Holds but big enough for a woman."

"That was my thought as well," Robinton said. Menolly had taken advantage of that, many turns ago. "Let's see what she has to say about all of this."


End file.
